And it really rattled me.
I think it rattled the whole group.
Even the Dungeon Master seemed shaken by it, which I didn’t expect.
He was convinced we were done for.
I think we all were.
I mean, obviously I knew dying was a bad thing, because when is it not?
It’s by their hand you will die.
And that always made me feel safe - until the other day.
It was doubly shocking because of the way it came about.
No one expected it.
For the first half of the session, things couldn’t have gone better.
We attacked the boss we planned to attack and everything went our way.
- taking any kind of damage at all.
Everyone else was fine.
What we hadn’t counted on, though, was the old man downstairs.
That’s the sort of thing I’d normally do.
To us, he seemed little more than a distraction.
But then he Fireballed.
Or rather, he unleashed a powered-up Fireball.
An enemy probably isn’t going to be able to produce that many before they need to rest.
But not this guy.
Four Fireballs in a row he unleashed, and down we went.
Quick note: when you’re downed in D&D, you go into death-saving throw mode.
Fail three and you’re dead-dead.
It’s the game’s way of injecting some urgency into other players helping you up.
And once you’re on the back foot, it’s hard to come back.
We desperately clung on.
Do you know what I thought the moment things started to turn on us?
I thought, ‘Don’t worry Bertie, it’s possible for you to always just reload.’
Except, obviously, I couldn’t.
I’m talking about weeks of progress being on the line.
I know such things exist in video games.
But also, perhaps, electrifying.
Danger heightens the whole experience.
And perhaps -perhaps- I ought to seek it out more often.
Because that near-death experience in D&D the other night?
It’s a gaming moment I’ll never forget.
